Truffles and Trespassers
by Morbid DramaQueen10
Summary: Lizzie returns home one snowy evening in December to find an well-intentioned intruder in her living room bearing truffles and cookies. For the first time in months, Red has made contact - however, not with the aim of returning to the Bureau, but to spread a little holiday cheer to his favorite FBI profiler.


**Huzzah, another Blacklist piece! For those of your familiar with my recent oneshot _Empires_ this isn't a direct follow-up, though they could be within the same mind-canon I've got going on? I don't knowThis took me so long...my head hasn't been in the game, haha.**

**My first holiday piece ever! Hopefully I infused enough Christmas-sy goodwill into the prose.**

**-XXX-**

The snow wasn't too deep – only a few inches – but the cold it brought sunk right into her bones. As Liz struggled to find her keys, she shivered against the cold, nuzzling into her scarf. Of course, they just had to sink to the bottom of her purse – it was practically a law of physics that anything you're searching will automatically fall to the bottom of your purse, no matter what it is, no matter the size. When her fingers touch the cool metal, she pulls out the ring and inserts the brass key into the lock, pushing inside for the sweet relief of heat.

As she removed her hat, coat, gloves and scarf, Liz noted the small candy-stripped plate resting on the table near the stairs, on which rests a small collection of goodies. White chocolate Christmas tree truffles, what appear to be candy cane macaroons, as well as peanut brittle and a few gingerbread men. The sound of Nat King Cole's "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" drifted in lowly from the living room. Surprised, she peered into the kitchen.

"Tom?" He was not supposed to be home yet – tonight was semester-end parent-teacher conferences. The food was a nice surprise. Her husband had been distant as of late, even with the recent passing of her adopted father. With the coming of the holiday season, she's needed the support, badly – and the distance between them was felt even more so than usual. It was her first holiday without Sam. Yet, Tom wasn't _there. _

Perhaps this was a gesture of apology? Some way to greet the season?

There is no answer, so she focused on removing her boots. Once they're propped neatly beneath the rack of hooks, she moved to the kitchen, taking the plate of treats with her, snagging a gingerbread as she went.

"Tom?" she called again, drifting into the kitchen. It was empty. But she could hear a slight sound from the living room – a shift against furniture. Frowning, she pulled her hair into a loose ponytail, humming. She moved to the dining room, head tilted. "Baby, you're home really early –"

She stopped upon entering. Raymond "Red" Reddington sat on her couch, propped against a few pillows, a puffy black parka tossed over the cushions beside him, looking for all the world like the master of the house. He wears a simple blue sweater and cargo khakis – very un-Red-like. A carton of eggnog sat on the side table near him along with an empty glass and the remote to the stereo.

Liz gaped.

Red lifted his own glass of eggnog – _"We didn't buy eggnog," _she thought absently – and said as amiably as he ever had, "Hello, Lizzie."

"What are you doing here?" she demanded. "Where is Tom? How –"

"Visiting. He's at a parent-teacher meeting. And locked doors are hardly enough to keep me out," the criminal stated simply. "You're looking well."

Still flabbergasted (and still holding the plate of assorted treats), Liz shook her head. "Why?

"Oh, you have a certain glow about you – bright cheeks and sparkling eyes - though, that could be from coming in out of the cold. Oh, why am I here? I wanted to check in on you," he replied. "Now sit, and pass me a truffle."

Dazed, she sat, placing the plate on the coffee table. With a sigh of mild annoyance, Red selected a tree and bit into it.

"Delicious."

"You bought those?" Elizabeth put a hand to her forehead. "What are you doing here, Red? Does Dembe know? Or the Bureau?"

"You certainly ask many questions." He examined the half-eaten truffle. "They're from a patisserie in Brooklyn I'm terribly fond of. I figured you could use a bit of holiday spirit. You haven't even put up a tree, Elizabeth."

She looked down at her knees. Frank Sinatra's dulcet tones now filled the room. "I've been a little busy."

He laughed. "Busy indeed. I've been keeping an eye on you, Agent Keen, you've been quite active. Rising through the ranks. I said I'd make you famous."

"Well, with you being gone, I've had to shift my focus onto other things. I've been less successful without your help," she admitted. "But it has been keeping me busy. Distracted."

Red tiled his head. "Have you been in need of distraction?"

Liz hesitated, looking down at the carpet. She and Tom had picked it out shortly after they'd moved in together. They'd spent hours in Ikea browsing. It'd resulted in one of their first spats. Every time she looked at the thing she was reminded of holding back tears in the middle of the warehouse, fist clenched, murmuring under her breath. And then, hours later, wearily sharing a piece of lemon meringue pie and coffee at a nearby diner, apologies flowing profusely between them.

"Where have you been?"

He was not letting her get away. Sipping his eggnog, Red rose to stand behind her. A gentle hand went to her shoulder. "Why have you wanted distraction, Lizzie?"

She doesn't know what ultimately makes her do it - but Liz leaned into his touch with a sigh. "It's my first Christmas without my dad. And it is…getting to be a little tough. By this time we'd be packing for a week out, or scrubbing the grout with a toothbrush for when he visits. And this year…."

She drifted off. From the corner of her eye, there is a rustle as the carton of eggnog and glass is lifted. It hovered above her until she accepted the beverage with a small smile.

"This year is going to be very different," Red finished for her. "I'm sorry, Lizzie." His hand rises to cup her cheek. "I know this month will be trying for you. But I've no doubt you can get through it…provided you are offered with the proper amount of support."

Her silence was all too telling.

"Tom has been…distant?" Red asked delicately.

"Yes," she whispered.

Now that it had been said aloud, she feels the unbearable weight of _"maybe" _leave her chest, and she sunk against the cushions of the chair. For the last six months, her marriage had been something nightmarish, nothing like the relationship she had known for the last seven years. He had changed. They had both changed.

One thumb skirted her jaw. She hated herself to turning into the touch. Accepting the comfort. But she'd not felt contact in so long….the move last year from Baltimore had meant leaving behind most of her friends, she'd been so busy with work that it'd been virtually impossible to meet people in D.C…..

"Oh, Lizzie."

Reddington accepted the fingers she moved up to her shoulder to meet his.. He squeezed, but did not speak. The song changed – a choir of children singing something of world peace. For a moment Liz closed her eyes.

When Red pulled back and returned to the couch, Liz set her glass down.

"Why are you here, Red? And where have you been over the last couple months?"

"I told you, I wanted to check in on you. As for my whereabouts over the last? Well, let's just say I've been safe."

"They're looking for you."

"I know." Something like a smirk slid onto his lips, his eyes taking on a hard glaze. "Number one target on the blacklist. Currently the most sought-after girl at the prom. Belle of the ball. I am flattered your Bureau would be so interested by me, but I'm afraid they weren't an attentive date the first time around – and I'm not usually one for second chances. Also, I am a little offended by your lack of involvement, Agent Keen."

Liz opened her mouth, snapped it shut, the opened it again. "You're _put off? _I didn't have any choice! They assigned me elsewhere."

"I told them I would speak only to you."

"You're not speaking to anyone at the Bureau right now!" she protested. "I'm not your handler!"

"But would you not surmise," he said patiently, leaning forward. "That being the sole person I would deal with, I might be reluctant to return if you were no longer available?"

She wasn't sure how to respond to this. Pulling her knees together, Elizabeth closed her eyes.

"When you come back, I will," she finally managed. "They'll let me back when you return."

He made a grunt-like noise, perhaps of disbelief. Leaning back into the cushions, he regarded her. "In due time."

She sighed. "Right."

Red smiled faintly at his hands. "I will," he assured her. "There are still many names on the blacklist, far too many for my liking. Too many to walk away from."

"You've only had a taste of revenge," she said bitterly.

"Ah." Raymond raised a hand. "Not merely revenge. I do have more moral motivations behind my work." He took truffle from the nearby candystriped plate, examining it closely before taking a bite. The criminal savored the expertly blended candy for several minutes before turning back to Elizabeth.

"You're young," he stated simply. "And in being young, you see much of the world and its workings as black-and-white. It's never that simple. You shall find, in time, that most things can be found in shades of grey."

"Is that how you would describe yourself, Red? Morally grey?"

"When you see that way, dealing with those who run the less savory parts of the world will become a lot easier for you to…empathize with. And that will likely be the day you stop having faith in most of your government agencies."

"Which is to say you don't?"

He laughed. It was an honest, open sound. "Lizzie, we both know your Bureau is little more than a resource to me. The means to an end."

"And end which would be….?"

Raymond did not answer, choosing, instead, to peer at her fondly, with his trademark smile softening his aged features. Nothing cooled those fierce blue-green-grey eyes like observing his favorite FBI profiler. She sighed, pushing back a few locks that had fallen across her forehead in a less-than-comfortable way. Feeling awkward, she grabbed a cooking off the plate, but didn't eat it. Instead she fingered the gumdrop buttons and cinnamon candy eyes of the gingerbread man, All the while, Red had her fixed in his inscrutable gaze.

"I loathe to cut this visit short, but I'm due for another meeting soon." He rose slowly, gathering his outwear. Lizzie remained in her seat until he reached the threshold between the living room and foyer. He paused, turning back to her with a clear expression of _"Well?" _written across his face. A gracious hostess, even to those who essentially trespass, she set the cookie down to follow him to the front door.

He paused before making his exit. With an expression that hinted of doubt, he neared the young woman until he could feel her heat radiating onto his skin. One hand slid up to rest against her cheek, another went to her waist. In response Lizzie's fingers folded against his on her waist, her other going across her own chest to clutch her shoulder. Something of a barrier between them, but Red didn't comment.

"Have a merry Christmas, Lizzie," he said softly before pressing a light kiss into her forehead. His lips lingered, fingers applying a slight, telling pressure to all that they touched. For a solid moment, he held her to him, pouring all that he had into her - reassurance, warmth, tranquility, and, most of all, a tangible sense of pure _rightness. _Lizzie felt, for the first time in weeks, balanced. It was truly a gift.

After he pulled back she straightened herself, swallowed, nodding slightly. Her face felt warm, but she waved it off. From the living room behind them the opening notes to "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" wafted through the still air of the house. She closed her eyes. Centering.

With great finality, he detached himself to open the door. Though it was dusky, she could clearly see puffy flecks of white drifting down from the cloudy sky above. More snow. On the stoop, he turned back only once. The sense of _"goodbye" _gave Liz her voice again.

"Be safe," she called.

The corners of his lips pulled up. "You as well. I will see you…."

"_Soon?" _hung questionably in the air. Even Red couldn't speculate when they would meet again. But his half-smile warned her warily that it would occur – at some point in time.

Without another word, he descended down the steps, landing on the sidewalk, striding easily out into the snowy night.

**-XXX-**

**I hope you enjoyed this brief piece. Please read and review, feedback means the world to me, plus it'd be a great gift...*hint hint* Happy holidays to all! **


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